Dark Night of the Soul
by Scooter Kitty
Summary: Remy LeBeau deals with an old nemesis, told both pre and postAntarctica.


Standard disclaimer: The characters depicted here are not mine (except Lilith). They belong to Marvel Comics. I'm just barrowing them. 

*This story is rated R for a couple of naughty words and sexual situations (nothing too graphic and not slash).

*Let me just say here, that its been a long time since my last college French class, so please excuse any mistakes I may have made in the very trivial tidbits of French that I threw in. Please do not send me page long explanations of what I did wrong in French, because frankly, I don't care. None of the French stuff is important. If you would like to critique what I wrote in English, please do. I welcome it. Thank you.

6/22/01

DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL 

            The full moon cast its pale, heatless light onto the bayou, deepening the already thick shadows. The creatures of the swamp sang their nocturnal songs, causing the three figures crouched at the edge of the water to jump. After a moment they resumed their surveillance of the huge antebellum mansion that stood not far in front of them. The house looked dead and deserted, as old and decayed as the house where they all resided, the home of Clan LeBeau and headquarters of the New Orleans Thieves' Guild. 

            "It don't look like anyone live here for a long time," whispered twelve-year-old Etienne. "Let's jus' go on 'ome."

            "Looks can be deceivin'," Remy responded. He had recently turned fifteen and was feeling the need to prove himself. "I've heard dis place is filled wi' treasure."

            "Yeah, well I heard dis place is filled wi' vampires," Etienne said.

            A derisive snort from the third and oldest boy drew the attention of the other two.

            "Who tol' you dat? Julien and the other junior assassins?" Emil Lapin, asked. "They jus' yankin' yer chain, Et. They dared us to go in dere and now they tryin' to make sure dat we don't go through wit' it. An' if y' too scared, y' can always go on 'ome. Remy and me can handle dis alone. We didn' invite you anyways."

            "No…I-I wanna stay," the younger boy insisted, although he looked like he wanted anything but that. 

            Remy sat ignoring his two companions, his mind solely occupied with trying to determine the best way to break into the old mansion. His red-on-black mutant eyes seemed to glow slightly in the darkness, almost burning into the side of the house in his concentration. Seeing that he was starting to get under the skin of the younger boy, Emil continued to press his advantage with Etienne.

            "Course de old men are always tellin' us to stay away from dis house. If dere really was treasure in dere, you'd t'ink they would've stole it by now. Maybe dere really is vampires in dere. Dis is N'awlins after all. Ever'body know N'awlins a haunted city. What wit' de dead so close an' all."

            "Would you two shut up," Remy suddenly snapped.

            "Oh, lighten up Remy," Emil said, "I'm jus' messin' wit' his head. Or are you startin' t' get scared too?"

            The glare from those disturbing red eyes was enough to shut Emil up and the three sat in silence for a long moment. A sudden loud, high pitched wail broke the stillness just as the reeds very close to the left of their hiding place began to rustle. The greenish glint of a pair of animal eyes peered out at them from between the reeds.

            "Mon Dieu!" Etienne swore, jerking up. "Les vampires est ici!"

            Panicked, the boy bolted into the swamp. As he did, the reeds parted and a small, dirty orange cat emerged and immediately dropped into the distinctive crouch of a cat in heat. It looked over at the two remaining youths and gave another plaintive wail.

            "Oh, am I gonna give Etienne crap 'bout dis," Emil chuckled softly. "He done wet hisself runnin' away from a horny cat."

            Remy glared at his cousin, annoyed. "Y' best go on after 'im."

            "Why? He'll jus' go on back t' de house."

            "Yeah, an' if he tells de old men where we are, dey'll come an' tan our hides 'fore we even get a chance to look inside dat house. 'Sides he'll probably get hisself lost in de swamp."

            "You say dat like it's bad t'ing."

            "We'll get blamed."

            "Oh, yeah. Well, if I go after Et, what are you gonna do?"

            "I'm goin' inside de house."

            "Oh no, you go after Et, I'll go inside."

            "Hey, you scared 'im off, you go after 'im."

            "I didn't scare 'im, the cat did," Emil said.

            "Yeah, but you were de one goin' on 'bout vampires."

            With a heavy sigh, Emil stood and brushed the dirt from his jeans.

            "Awright, awright, I'll go after 'im. I'll try to catch up wit' y' later."

            "Whatever," Remy mumbled, his mind turning back to the job at hand, having already mentally dismissed his cousin. 

            Creeping out from his hiding place, Remy slowly inched toward the back of the house, stepping carefully as he crossed the crushed shell road. Hiding in the long, curtaining branches of a willow tree, the boy looked up to see an open window on the second floor. A tall, moss-draped oak stood not far from the house, its branches reaching tantalizingly close to the window.

            Remy darted quickly behind the thick trunk of the ancient oak and looked up to see that the lowest branch was entirely out of his reach. But this did not dismay the boy terribly. He had always been much more quick and agile than any of his fellow thieves. Whether this was a part of his being a mutant or not, he wasn't sure, but he made full use of it whenever possible. Backing up several feet, he took a run at the tree and leaped up, kicking out at the truck and propelling himself up to the lowest branch. He climbed further up until he reached the branch that was level with the window.

            Standing, he walked down the length of the branch. He was still several feet from the window, when the branch began to bow dangerously under his weight. Bouncing up and down slightly, he used it as a springboard to propel himself head first through the window. As his shoulders passed the sill, he tucked into a ball and somersaulted onto his back, rolling up onto his feet in one smooth, graceful motion.

            Taking a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the denser shadows of the interior of the house, Remy began to explore his surroundings, moving as silently as a wraith. Although all the furnishings were old and out of date, the house was obviously lived in. It was tidy, relatively dust free and completely vermin free. 

            Moving from room to room, the youth was finding nothing of any particular value. He supposed the furniture and the artwork were probably antique and valuable, but these weren't the kinds of things that he could easily carry out on his person. He noted that almost all of the windows were closed, the heavy drapes pulled and the house was quite warm and stuffy. 

            How can dese people live like dis, he wondered, wiping sweat from his eyes. Then again, so far, he hadn't encountered any people. Not even anyone sleeping in any of the numerous bedrooms he had passed through. Maybe dere's nobody's home. Dat would certainly make my life easier, he thought.

            Heading down the wide, winding, formal staircase to the large front foyer, he turned toward the salon. This room was small and cozy. Like the rest of the house, it was decorated in Victorian Era furniture and wallpaper. Lace curtains hung in the windows here allowing plenty of moonlight to filter in. Gazing around, fully absorbed in his surroundings, Remy was unprepared as he turned to find himself staring into a very disturbing pair of cat-like, yellow-green eyes. 

            "Merde!," he swore softly, stepping back. 

            The woman with the strange eyes smiled at him. She was very tall, taller than the young mutant, with harshly short white hair and deep red lips. Her skin was quite pale and abundantly displayed. She wore a Victorian undergarment, a sort of short, lacy, silk romper. As her smile widened further, he could see that she, indeed, had a pair of gleaming, white fangs.   

            "Hello, Little One, are you lost?" she asked, her voice low and throaty, much like the purr of the cat she so resembled. He could detect a faint English accent.

            "Non, I was jus' leavin'," the boy whispered.

            "Aw, so soon? Why don't you stay for a while? We could get to know each other better."

            The woman stepped closer to him, reaching out a long, slim hand to toy with his shoulder-length, brown hair. 

            "You know, Little One," she continued in her hypnotic purr, "you have beautiful eyes. You're a mutant, aren't you? It would be a shame to allow such rare beauty to fade. You would make a very lovely addition to my flock."

~*~*~*~

            Emil burst out of the swamp just to the side of the old mansion where all of Clan LeBeau resided. He quickly skidded to a stop as he saw Etienne talking to Tante Mattie on the house's wide front porch. The younger boy was obviously still quite agitated and he was gesturing frantically back toward the bayou. Turning to allow her eyes to follow where the boy was pointing, the seemingly ageless traiteur spied Emil trying to slink back into the shadows. 

            "Lapin, you stay right where you are, boy!" the woman barked, freezing him in his tracks.

            She stalked angrily up to Emil, dragging a helpless Etienne behind her.

            "Dis boy say dat you and Remy were goin' t' break into dat ol' mansion up de road. Is 'at true?" she demanded without preamble.

            "Uh…"

            "What in Creation you fools t'inkin' of! Y' know y' not supposed t' go near dat ol' house… Where's Remy?"

            "H-he's, uh…um…" Emil stammered, making a vague, helpless gesture in the direction from which he had just come.

            "Oh, Sweet Jesus, no," she whispered. "You two get yo' butts inside dat house and get Jean-Luc…get Henri, get whoever else you can find and tell dem t' meet me back at dat house. I'm goin' on ahead."

~*~*~*~

            Remy felt his skin crawl as the tall cat-woman slowly trailed her fingers from his hair to his face and gently traced his lips. Hoping that his mutant enhanced reflexes would not fail him now. He tried to make an abrupt dash for the door. But she moved just a hair faster than him and grabbed onto his arm and jerked him back to her, pulling him tight into a crushing embrace. She held him fast with one arm wrapped around his waist, while with her free hand she grasped the neck of his black t-shirt and tore it away. He struggled frantically, but her grip was like iron. Everything had happened so fast, he never had a chance to grab something to even attempt to use his newly emerging mutant powers.

            "You know, Little One, I've never tasted the blood of a mutant before. This will be a new experience for both of us," she hissed as she forced her mouth to his neck.

            Remy groaned loudly as her teeth penetrated his skin. The sensation was simultaneously the most painful and the most pleasurable thing he had ever experienced. Twin currents of electricity jolted through his body, igniting every cell, encompassing every sensation. After several, long minutes of this exquisite agony, his struggles gradually ceased as his whole consciousness narrowed to center on the feel of her teeth in his neck and her burning, suckling mouth. Nothing else existed, nothing but her teeth and the sound of his own heart pounding loudly in his ears.

            Just as flashes of color began to explode against his tightly closed eyelids, heralding an imminent loss of consciousness, he became aware of a hissing sound and the sharp smell of burnt flesh. The vampire screamed, her teeth leaving his neck as she flung him to the floor and spun around to face her attacker.

            Tante Mattie stood, eyes flashing, brandishing a large wooden crucifix that was still smoking from where she had pressed it against the vampire's back. In her other hand, she carried a talisman made from wild roses wrapped around a hawthorn branch. She raised both threateningly at the vampire.

            "You step away from dat boy, Deathless One," Mattie ordered.

            "I don't think so, old woman," the vampire growled through tightly clenched teeth, still stained with Remy's blood. "The child entered my domain, he is mine."

            "No, Lilith, he's mine."

            Both women turned to see a tall shadow in the doorway of the salon. As the shadow moved into the room and the moonlight, they could just make out a handsome man who appeared to be in his mid-forties with a single, waist-length braid down his back and a dark moustache. His green eyes glinted coldly in the faint light.

            "We had a deal, Jean-Luc," the vampire said. "My coven and I leave you and your thieves alone, you leave us alone. This child entered our sanctuary, he must be punished."

            "He has been, y've had y' little drink."

            "Yes," she purred, smacking her lips loudly. "And what sweetness it was, warm, tingling, unlike anything I've ever tasted… No, I think I'll keep this delectable, little morsel for myself."

            Jean-Luc turned to Mattie and nodded. The woman began to sway back and forth, waving her hawthorn branch talisman slowly in an intricate pattern, while at the same time chanting a mixture of French and Latin prayer. A strange sort of buzzing sensation started at the back of Lilith's head, slowly increasing in intensity.

            "Wha… What are you doing? Stop that!" she hissed.

            Mattie continued, her movements becoming quicker, her voice louder and more strident. The buzzing in Lilith's head also grew louder and more painful, as if an entire swarm of angry bees were flying around inside her skull and trying to get out. She clutched at her head and screamed in pain.

            "Stop! Stop it…Take the boy! Just take him and get out!" she shrieked.

            Jean-Luc stepped over and gathered the semi-conscious Remy into his arms and left the house. Tante Mattie slowly backed out after him, her talisman still held out in front of her and her eyes never leaving the vampire's.

~*~*~*~

            After carrying Remy home and seeing him settled into his bed with Mattie and her crucifix standing guard over him, Jean-Luc returned to the vampire's mansion. By now the rest of the flock had awakened for the night and they were gathered in the large foyer of the house. Their animated conversations ceased as the tall Thieves' Guild leader strolled calmly into their midst to stand before Lilith. He ignored the ominous mutterings of the gathered flock, his attention focused solely on the vampire leader.

            "I hope you don't think that you won that little encounter earlier, Jean-Luc," Lilith said. "All you've done is delay the inevitable. The boy violated our sanctuary. He will be punished. I will have his soul."

            "Non, he jus' a foolish, head-strong boy. He learned his lesson. He'll not bother you again. He'll wear yer mark fo' the rest o' his days t' remind 'im o' his mistake. He been punished enough. Now you leave 'im be."

            "I will decide when he has been punished enough. I want his soul."

            "You don't want 'is soul to punish 'im. You want it to control 'im, jus' like you control dese other blood-suckin' puppets," Jean-Luc said, gesturing to the gathered flock. "Well, I'm not goin' t' allow dat. I came here t' tell you, if you ever even speak to Remy again, let alone lay another tooth on him, I will order my thieves t' burn dis house t' de ground wit' all o' you in it. And den we will turn de soil and plant hawthorn bushes and wild roses on de site. But de first thing dat I will do, is personally send yo' corrupt, black soul t' hell. Now, as I said, you leave Remy be."

            Without another word, Jean-Luc turned his back to the woman and walked out, slowly, his head held high, never once glancing at the living death gathered around him lusting for his blood. 

            "May we kill him for his insolence, Mistress?" One of the vampires standing beside Lilith asked. "We will bring you the child."

            "No, let it go for now. There will always be another time."

~*~*~*~

            The snow fell on the streets of New York, covering the dirty sidewalks and obscuring the harsh lines of the towering city, creating a sort of soft, dream-like vision, a life-sized version of a child's snow globe. Remy LeBeau flipped up the collar of his long brown duster, trying to burrow down further into its depths, vainly attempting to get warm. The bone-rattling chill that seemed to have lodged itself into his very soul was not just a result of the Louisiana bayou boy being unaccustomed to the northern climate, it was a symptom of something much more. Ever since he had been banished from New Orleans and the Thieves' Guild almost six months ago, he had felt a sort of cold, empty, darkness growing in the pit of his stomach. 

            After his banishment he had wandered aimlessly around the country, simply heading wherever the next train or bus was headed. Now, in mid-January, he found himself in the Big Apple, cold, hungry and exhausted. He needed to find a place to crash soon, it was starting to get dark, but he had no money. The streets he was walking were still bustling with people hurrying home from work, so there was plenty of opportunity to pick someone's pocket. But somehow even that seemed entirely too much effort. At the moment apathy was out-weighing self-preservation.

            As he walked, he gradually became aware of someone walking beside him. In any large, crowded city there were always people pressing close around you, but this person had been keeping exact pace with his long-legged stride for several blocks now. Trying to make his movement casual, he glanced to the side. 

"Mon Dieu!" he whispered, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, angering the people walking behind him who had to suddenly veer around him.

"Hello, Little One," Lilith said smugly, enjoying the look of shock on his handsome face as recognition settled in. "Although you're not so little anymore, are you?"

Indeed, the young mutant had grown quite tall in the three years since she had seen him last. He now stood at least a head taller than her. Noting that he was shivering slightly and was quite pale, she reached out and touched his face. He did not pull away.

"You're a long way from home, LeBeau," she said softly. "The streets of New York can be awfully cold for a Cajun boy. You look like you could use a friend. I have a room at the Belmont Hotel, a couple of blocks from here. Why don't you join me for some dinner?"

"And am I to be on de menu?" he asked.

She smiled at him, bearing her teeth slightly.

The smile was arrogant and irritatingly self-satisfied, and yet Remy found the thought of losing himself in that smile morbidly appealing. Surely death, or even undeath, would be better than the half-life that he was enduring now. If nothing else, it would bring an end to the pain, the emptiness, and the ever-gnawing loneliness. Without a word, he gestured for her to lead.

The hotel she led him to, was large and opulent, located on the upper east side of Manhattan, directly across the street from Central Park. Her "room" was actually a suite, with a bedroom and a spacious sitting room. The bathroom alone was as big as some motel rooms Remy had slept in. The décor was elegant and the large windows offered splendid views of the park.

"Life been good t' you," he commented, looking around and assessing the place with the trained eye of a professional thief.

"It could be good to you as well," Lilith purred.

The young man didn't answer. He wandered over to the room's impressive fireplace. Finding the switch that activated the gas jets, he flipped it and instantly warm, cheery flames sprang up from behind the ceramic "logs". Plopping down, cross-legged, on the floor in front of the fire, he held his chilled hands out toward the heat. 

"Please, make yourself at home," the vampire said dryly.

"Don' mine if I do."

"Are you hungry? Shall I order you some room service?"

"Dat'd be nice," he answered, his mutant eyes never leaving the dancing flames.

"What would you like?"

"Whatever."

"When did you eat last?"

"Dunno, don' 'member."

"Well, then I'll order you a variety."

When the impressive array of food arrived, Remy ate heartily, knowing this could be the last meal he had for quite some time, perhaps ever. Lilith sat opposite him, watching hungrily and sipping wine. The deep red vintage that she had ordered was much heavier than anything Remy was accustomed to, but he gladly welcomed its numbing effect. He glanced up at the vampire briefly and knew that she was waiting for him. He also recognized that he was taking his time, stalling her.

"Dat some coincidence dat you foun' me in dis big city," he commented, trying to make conversation.

"Coincidence? Not hardly. I smelled you."

"Smell' me?" he asked, slightly disturbed. "You sayin' I need a bath?"

"You are a mutant. Your blood is unlike any I have ever tasted… It also has a … unique scent. I could pick you out of a crowd from a mile away, by smell alone."

Remy swallowed hard. He was starting to have second thoughts. He hadn't cared much about his life one way or another just a few hours ago, but now his sense of self-preservation was starting to kick in, if a bit belatedly. 

Awright, he thought firmly, determined not to back down, le's get dis over wit'. Reluctantly he pushed his plate away. He was not full, being a very active and still-growing youth, it took a lot to accomplish that, but he figured it was probably not wise to continue the evening on a full stomach.

"Are you finished?" Lilith asked politely. Her eyes glittered excitedly.

"I guess."

"Then let's move someplace more comfortable."

She took his hand and led him over to the fireplace and began piling pillows and blankets onto the floor in front of it. Remy nestled down into the pillows on his back. Lilith lay on her side perched on few pillows so that she could look down on him. She reached out and slowly caressed his face. He fought down a queasy feeling in the pit of stomach and desperately hoped he wouldn't lose his so-recently consumed meal. His body trembled slightly in anticipation, remembering the intense pleasure/pain that her bite would bring. Jus' do it, his mind screamed at her.

"You know, LeBeau, I think you have grown even more beautiful. I think it was for the best that I allowed you to age a little longer. I have always found that men are like white wines, while they do need to age some, they are best consumed while still young."

She let her fingers lazily trace his cheek down to his neck. Adding a slight pressure, she could feel his pulse. She was thrilled by its quickness. Moving closer, she slid one leg between his, pressing her body against his. He was so young, warm, firm and alive. Inhaling deeply, she caught the metallic-sweet scent of his fear. It was a heady perfume to her and her mouth began to water.

The boy's eyes were squeezed shut and the muscles of his jaw stood out where it was clenched tight in anticipation. Slowly she lowered her head and pressed her mouth to his neck, gently probing with her tongue. Finding just the right spot, she abruptly sank her teeth in. She heard the sharp hiss of his sudden intake of breath and felt his entire body stiffen. She drank deeply.

The boy's mutant blood was potent, so much more so now that he was older. It tingled and danced in her veins like a thing alive. Writhing, undulating heat infused her, body and soul, awakening long dormant hungers and needs.  Her body almost vibrated with the burning pulse of his bio-kinetic blood. The feeling was… orgasmic. 

With a tremendous effort of will, she wrenched her mouth away from the now-fainting youth. She had been toying with the idea of making him a vampire tonight, but now she changed her mind. She decided that she would rather wait. If she could keep her hunger in check she would be able to enjoy this exquisite ecstasy again and again. Eventually, of course, the boy would weaken and die, but then he could join her and they could hunt the streets of New York together. 

With a contented sigh, she lay back against the pillows, her mind filled with delicious thoughts of Remy joining her on her nightly feedings. Turning to gaze at the unconscious object of her fantasies, she ran a hand through his thick brown hair.

"Yes, my dear LeBeau, one night, very soon, you will make a beautiful vampire."

~*~*~*~

It was late afternoon, when Remy woke up. He was still lying on the nest of pillows in front of the now-cold fireplace. Moving very slowly, his body weak and sore, he went to one of the windows and threw open the heavy curtains. Even the weak light from the overcast sky was enough to make him squint uncomfortably, but at least he didn't burst into flames. 

I'm not a vampire, he thought, relieved. Much of the previous night was a blur, but he did remember, quite vividly, the feel of her teeth in his neck. In fact, his whole body trembled with the memory, almost aching to feel that sensation again. 

No, I can't do dis, he told himself. Last night, he had wanted to become a vampire, to be released from this constant pain and emptiness, but now facing the beautiful, if anemic, daylight, he knew he couldn't go through with it. Even feeling lonely and miserable were preferable to feeling nothing at all.

Walking as silently as only a trained thief can, he made his way to the bedroom and peeked inside.  All the heavy drapes had been drawn and the room was thick with shadows. Lilith lay on the bed, seemingly asleep. He moved to stand beside her, reached out a hand and held it just above her mouth. He felt no breath against his palm. He slid the fingers of his hand, very lightly, across one cheek. Her skin felt cool, not quite cold like a corpse, but certainly not warm like the living.

Remy knew that if he stayed with her, he would become just like her, not dead, but not alive, trapped somewhere in between and forced to live off the deaths of others. He was not a killer, despite what had happened with Julien. That had been an accident. Remy had only been defending himself. He had never willfully killed anyone in his life. He was not about to start now.

Then, of course, there was the vampire. He knew that he really should kill her. How many innocent lives had she taken through the course of her undeath? How many more would she take? She was asleep (or whatever it was that vampires did) and helpless, and would remain so until dusk. He would never have a better opportunity. And it wouldn't be as if he was truly killing her. She was already dead. Her body simply didn't know it. He would just be returning her to the grave where she belonged.

On the opposite side of the bed was a delicate, wooden nightstand, with long, spindly legs. It would take very little effort on Remy's part to brake off one of those legs and use it as a stake. He walked around to stand beside it, contemplating the fragile piece of furniture.

He didn't understand why he was hesitating. She was a vampire. She was evil. Killing her would be the right thing to do, wouldn't it? But den, since when have I ever been concerned 'bout what was de right t'ing to do? He asked himself bitterly. Who'm I t' pass judgment on another? How can I condemn another's soul t' Hell when I prob'ly jus' meet dem dere later?

With a sigh, he turned and walked out of the hotel room, heading for the blinding sunlight of the brilliant Manhattan afternoon. He proceeded directly to Penn Station, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance between himself and Lilith's sense of smell as possible. It was definitely time for a change of scenery, perhaps climate, as well. He'd never been to Los Angeles before. And surely a vampire wouldn't follow him to the City of Angels?

~*~*~*~

As night crept over Manhattan, Lilith awoke to an empty hotel suite. Remy was gone. Her enhanced vampire senses told her that he had fled the city as well. She wasn't surprised. She had sensed the night before that he wasn't quite ready to let go of his life just yet. Perhaps this vintage needed to breathe for bit before being drunk.

Soon, she thought, soon the emptiness and self-loathing that eat at him constantly from the inside will begin to take their toll. His own self-destructive nature will take care of the rest. We will meet again. And the next time we do, he will be mine.

~*~*~*~

            The moon hung full and low over the cemetery, illuminating the large family crypts and casting long, grotesque shadows. The New Orleans night was quite warm, the air heavy and moist. But the sole occupant of the stone bench was oblivious to the heat. Even wrapped in his long, brown duster, he felt chilled. The family crypt opposite the young man was large and very old. The name "LeBeau" was etched at the top in large, gothic script.

            Although he was staring at it, the young man did not really see the large stone structure. His mind was lost in thoughts of family members gone and now entombed inside. So distracted was he, that he barely even took note of the group of teenaged girls dressed in black that scurried past him, giggling and casting furtive glances his way. He simply sat and stared unmoving, almost a piece of statuary, like the many carved stone angels that stood vigil over the various family crypts. But he was an earth-bound angel with the slightly glowing red eyes of a devil and the ice encrusted soul of a man who has lost everything.

            Antarctica. Even the soundless whisper of the word in his mind was enough to make his body shiver involuntarily, even surrounded as he was by the clinging, sultry heat of the Louisiana Delta. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever truly feel warm again, if he would ever truly… feel again. They had left him, left him to die. The X-Men had left him in Antarctica, condemning him to a slow, agonizing death… alone. 

                All of his life he had been alone, in one form or another. Although Jean-Luc LeBeau had tried to give him a family and a home, Remy just never seemed to fit in. With the X-Men, he thought he had finally found what he had been seeking all his life, a place where he belonged. But he was an outsider there as well, considered dangerous and untrustworthy by even his fellow freaks. And so he had done what he always did, he erected barriers and facades to keep the others from getting too close. And, even despite all that, for a brief time, he had been content, perhaps even happy. But happiness was not an emotion that Remy LeBeau was accustomed to and, admittedly, he didn't always handle it well. Not that it mattered, because, of course, as things inevitably did with him, everything fell apart and went to hell… literally. 

                Only just barely surviving that frozen wasteland, Remy returned to the place of his origins, or at least the place of his earliest memories. He wasn't really sure why he had returned. He had been banished from the city almost five years earlier by his own father. It was an exquisite torture to be so physically close to his few loved ones now, in his greatest hour of need, and know that he could have no contact with them. But then, Remy had always taken much more delight in tormenting himself than anyone else ever had.  

He was also taking a risk in coming back to New Orleans. The Assassins' Guild was still gunning for him. But then, perhaps, deep down, Remy was hoping that they would find him and put him out of his misery. Perhaps that was the real reason he had returned. He doubted very much that many people would mourn his death. In fact, quite a few would be down right elated. He could even think of a few X-Men he could include on that latter list. Remy was not bitter about this, he understood their feelings. Deep down, he agreed with them. He deserved their contempt.

A fleeting impression of movement in his peripheral vision interrupted his thoughts and he turned to find the pale figure of Lilith seated on the bench beside him. She looked exactly the same as she always had, beautiful, cold, remote… predatory, a white tiger in a gray silk dress. 

"Hello, LeBeau," she purred softly.

"'Lo Lilith," he said calmly. "You smell me 'gain?"

"The moment you set foot inside the city limits. I've been waiting for you."

                He nodded slightly, saying nothing. They sat staring at each other for a long moment. Finally, Lilith reached out and took Remy's hand. Without a word, she stood, drawing him up with her. He rose without protest and allowed her to lead him out of the cemetery. She ushered him to a long, black limousine that was parked nearby. A tall, handsome, young man dressed in the uniform of a chauffeur stood waiting. He opened one of the doors and helped Lilith into the vehicle. As Remy moved past him to climb in beside her, he could tell by the other's unnaturally bright eyes that he was a vampire also.  

                The limo glided away from the cemetery and into the streets of New Orleans, heading towards the outskirts of the city and the bayou that lay just beyond. Within the hour they were driving down the same crushed shell road on which this adventure had begun. As the vehicle pulled into the drive of Lilith's dark, dilapidated mansion, Remy realized that his life had come full circle. He was right back from where he had started. Climbing out of the limo, his eyes were drawn toward the end of the road, where little more than a mile away, Jean-Luc, Tante Mattie, and the rest of Clan LeBeau were probably preparing to retire for the night, completely oblivious of his proximity. If he were to scream, they would probably hear him. It was an agonizing realization.

                Noting his distraction, Lilith moved to stand beside him. Reaching out, she placed a hand under his chin and turned his face towards her. 

                "That part of your life is over," she said softly. "Let it go."

                He nodded, transfixed by her yellow-green eyes. She led him into the house and down to a lower level that he hadn't known existed. Here, beneath the house, was where Lilith and her flock actually lived. It was a single, huge, high-ceilinged chamber with numerous beds set around the perimeter. Other furniture, clothing, and books lay scattered around the large room. Otherwise it was empty.

                "Where's de rest o' your little flock o' blood-suckers?" Remy asked.

                "They have all moved on and left me. It's just Michael and I right now."

                "Michael? De little boy toy dat drove us here?"

                 "Yes, and I have sensed that he, too, has been growing restless of late. I think, very soon, he will move on as well."

                "Where is he, anyway?" Remy asked, looking around for the other vampire.

                "Oh, I'm sure he's gone to do a little hunting. Dawn is still a couple of hours away. Why? Did you want him to stay?"

                "Non."

                "Good, I don't like to share."

                She stepped closer and grasped the back of his head, tilting it down so that she could kiss him. The kiss was deep and insistent, but Remy submitted to her aggressively probing tongue without resistance. Her passions spurred by his passivity, Lilith moved closer still and slid her free hand under the long duster, to stroke his chest. Moving both hands to his shoulders, she pushed the coat back and it slowly slithered down his back to pool at his feet. The rest of his clothing quickly followed until he stood naked before her, his body long and lean and waiting for her use.

                She let her hands roam freely over the expanse of tanned flesh, enjoying the feel of the slight ripple of ribs along his sides, and of muscle down his washboard stomach. She slid her hands down and around the narrow hipbones to lightly rake her fingernails across the velvet firmness of his rounded buttocks. Lastly, she trailed her fingers back up to caress his face.

                Running the pad of one thumb across his lower lip, she whispered, "You are a magnificent creature, Remy LeBeau."

                Sliding her fingers down his face to his neck, Lilith lightly traced the two sets of twin scars that marked her earlier bites. As she touched them, jolts of electric pleasure rippled through his body, making him shiver slightly and arch himself against her. A soft moan escaped his parted lips.

                Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth over those scars and very lightly scraped them with her teeth, just drawing a slight amount of blood. Once again, she tasted the delicious, warm tingle, so unique to Remy's mutant signature. Her mouth began to water and it took every ounce of her willpower to gently push him away.

                "Non, n'arretez pas!" he cried out, his body burning with the need to feel her teeth inside him again.

                His entire body was flushed with arousal and he was almost panting with his need. His pupils were dilated in the dimly lit room, the red irises reduced to two narrow rings floating in seas of black.

                "You want it, don't you, LeBeau?" she purred.

                "Oui, me devorez, ma tigresse blanche!"

                "Not yet," she said softly. "Not yet."

                Taking his hand, she led him over to one of the beds that stood against the wall and pressed him down. Scooting back, he stretched out his lithe, cat-like body, displaying himself for her. She climbed onto the bed beside him and resumed her tactile explorations. When Remy reached out to return the caresses, she caught both of his wrists in one hand and pinned them to the bed above his head. Her strength was quite impressive. Half draping herself across his chest, she gazed down into the ink-filled pools of his eyes.

                "Don't move," Lilith commanded him softly. "Just lay there. Relax and enjoy. I will do all the work."

                Releasing all of the tension out of his body, he forced himself to lie still while her hands stroked and manipulated him with over a hundred years of experience. He writhed and moaned softly under her attentions. Finally he had to reach up and grab onto the delicate, antique brass frame of the bed in order to force himself to follow her instructions and not touch her. He was unaccustomed to being such a passive participant in the love making process. 

                "Lilith, please," he whispered, knowing that his body would not be able to hold out much longer with such stimulation, "fuck me, bite me, or somethin'. Jus' stop teasin' me!"  

                "As you wish, LeBeau," she whispered, swinging one leg over his hips to mount him.

                Settling herself atop him, she began to move in a steady rhythm. Remy groaned and started to sit up to take a more active role, but Lilith put her hand on his chest and pushed him back down.   

                "I don't remember giving you permission to move," she said.  

                Keeping her hand firmly on his chest to make sure that he stayed still, she made love to him. As she sensed him nearing his climax, she leaned over him and sank her teeth into his neck. The abrupt and unexpected pain, coupled with the intense pleasure was more than enough to send him over the edge. With a weak cry, he slipped into darkness.

~*~*~*~

                Remy awoke alone. Being in the windowless lower level of the house, he had no idea what time it was. He also had no idea where Lilith had gone. Slowly, he sat up and looked around. The room looked as empty as it had last night, with one exception, Michael lay "sleeping" in one of the beds along the wall opposite Remy's. Noting a door that he had missed last night, Remy wondered if this led to Lilith's personal chamber.

                Reaching up to run a hand through his hair. He found a metal cuff on his right wrist that was attached to the bedframe by a short length of chain. The chain was long enough to afford him some mobility, but not long enough to allow him to leave the bed. Obviously Lilith was not taking any chances on him getting away a third time.

                Naked as he was, he had nothing within his reach to use to pick the lock on the cuff. Knowing that he was a former member of the Thieves' Guild, Lilith would have thought of that. But she didn't consider his mutant powers. It would not take much for him to charge up the chain and blow it up.

                It occurred to Remy for the first time that, while Lilith obviously knew that he was a mutant, she had never actually seen him use his powers. She had no idea what he was capable of. Although, in his current weakened state, he wasn't entirely sure what he was capable of either. And frankly, he wasn't sure he cared enough to find out. At the moment, more sleep was the only thing he really cared about.

                But even as he was thinking this, another, quieter voice, from deep inside, was speaking to him. It was a voice he knew well, it had saved his lying, thieving butt on many previous occasions, and it was saying, the less Lilith knew, the better. Never tip your hand too early in the game. Save the proverbial ace-up-the-sleeve for later, when all the chips were down.

                With a heavy sigh, Remy lay back down, found a comfortable position, and fell asleep.

~*~*~*~

                Remy woke the second time, several hours later, to find Michael's dark eyes only inches from his own. With a gasp, the young mutant jerked back from the vampire.

                "What you want, homme?" Remy asked, suspiciously.

                "Lilith told me to watch you and let her know the moment you woke up," Michael answered.

                "You always follow her instructions so exactly?"

                "Always. Lilith accepts nothing less. You might want to remember that," Michael said, his voice sullen.

                He turned and disappeared through the doorway that Remy had noticed earlier. He emerged again a few minutes later, followed by Lilith. She was wearing a long, black, silk nightgown that clung to her generous curves as she approached Remy. She sat on the bed beside him and began absently stroking his hair. The young mutant couldn't help but feel a bit like an overgrown lap dog.

                "Did you sleep well, my Sweet?" she asked.

                "I guess. Care t' explain dis?" he asked, gesturing to the chain on his wrist.

                "I just didn't want you wandering off again. This time, we finish what we've started."

                "Right now?" Remy felt a flutter of fear in his stomach.

                "Not yet, but soon," she said, smiling smugly.

                "You keep sayin' dat. What are you waitin' for?"

                "I don't know… the right moment? Why? Are you in a hurry?"

                He didn't answer, but he had to look away from her hungry eyes.

                Turning her attention to Michael, Lilith said, "Darling, why don't you go out and get something for Remy to eat? And then you can feed while you're out."

                "Oh, may I?" Michael whispered under his breath.

                "What was that, Darling? I didn't quite catch it."

                "Nothing."

                "Good, now go."

                With one last, long glare at Remy, the other vampire turned and stalked out of the large room.

                "Somehow, I get de impression dat he don't like me much," Remy observed.

                "He'll get over it," Lilith said darkly.

                Remy shrugged and glanced down at his shackled wrist.

                "Any chance you gonna take dis thing off any time soon?"

                "Why? Is there somewhere you need to go?"

                "Yeah, de bathroom. I gotta piss somethin' fierce."

                Chuckling softly at his crudeness, she stood and walked back into her room. When she returned, she had a small, gold key with her. Unlocking the cuff, she released him. Rubbing his chaffed and tender wrist, Remy stood and started towards the door that led upstairs. Lilith grabbed his arm before he had taken a step.

                "Don't run away," she said softly, her tone deadly.

                "I'm naked, Lilith, how far you think I'm gonna get?"

                Blatantly leering at his well-toned body, she pulled him close.

                "All you'd have to do is make it to the highway. I'm sure some big, brawny trucker would be more than happy to give you a ride… for a ride," she said grasping the back of his head and kissing him deeply.

                Pulling away slightly, he whispered, "I gotta pee, Lilith!"

                With a laugh, she released him, giving him a playful slap on the rump as he again started for the stairs. 

~*~*~*~

                Almost an hour later, after taking care of his bodily needs, as well as taking a long, hot shower, Remy finally returned to the mansion's lower level, a towel wrapped around his waist. He walked into the large chamber to find that Michael had returned and he and Lilith were engaged in a heated argument. As far as Remy could discern, he seemed to be the cause of that argument. Lilith immediately broke off the discussion as soon as she became aware of Remy's presence. She gestured to Michael to be silent.

                "What took you so long? Where have you been?" she demanded.

                "I took a shower," Remy answered. "I was feelin' kinda funky."

                "Michael, please leave us. I wish to speak to Remy alone."

                The other vampire threw his customary look of contempt at the other male then stalked out of the house. Once he had gone, Remy turned his attention back to Lilith.

                "What's goin' on?" He asked.

                Moving closer, she slid one hand around to the back of his neck. With the other, she toyed with the dark, silky strands of his hair.

                "I need to know, Remy, are you having second thoughts?"

                He stepped away from her, moving to the other side of the room. He didn't want to think about this and he didn't want to make a decision. He wanted all of it out of his hands. Whenever he had been forced to make some critical decision, he had always made the wrong one. His life was empty and painful and rapidly becoming unbearable. He wanted the pain and the guilt to end and he didn't care how. But there was no way he could force himself to say this out loud to Lilith. It was too much like admitting defeat and Remy LeBeau had never admitted defeat.

                "So, you are still clinging to your precious life. After everything that's happened. You still refuse to let go."

                "Its not dat, Lilith…Just don't make me say it."

                The boy remained silent, his back to the vampire. After several long minutes, Lilith sighed.

                "Very well," she said. "I'm going to go and hunt. You will stay here and think about what it is that you want."

                "Does it matter, Lilith?" Remy said, turning to face her. "If I say no, I want t' live. Are you gonna let me? Are you gonna let me walk out of dis house alive?"

                "I want you to come to this life willingly."

                "But if I don't?" he pushed.

                "You will ask for it willingly. Eventually, you will. I have you in my possession. I can wait. I can wait for eternity if I need to. But eventually you will beg me for my gift… You will."

                With that statement, she turned on her heel and left the room. He heard the dull clunk of a metal bar being closed over the door from the outside. He was locked inside. With a groan, he moved to flop down on the bed and put his head in his hands. He was getting tired of Lilith's games. What does she want from me? He asked himself. Why not jus' kill me and get it over with? Why all de mind games? He was beginning to know how the mouse felt and he didn't like it.

                Now what? He thought. I'm completely at her mercy. I wanted it out of my hands, but I wanted it over an' done with. 

                Looking around the room, his eyes fell on a chair with slender legs and back slats. The chair was very similar to the table he had seen in Lilith's hotel room in New York. This time he didn't hesitate to act. Grasping the chair, he smashed it against the wall. Taking two of the back slats and a strip of cloth torn from some of the discarded clothing on the floor, he fashioned the wood into a crude cross. He hid it under the mattress of his bed. He could almost hear Jean-Luc's voice in his head, reminding him, as his father had so many times before in his life. If y' can't win de game, Remy, den dere's no point in playin'. An' if y' can't find a way t' stack de deck in your favor, den always leave y'self an out.

                Sifting through the remaining clothes from the floor and Michael's own personal stash, Remy managed to find himself a suitably fitting set of clothing. Glancing over in the direction of Lilith's room, he decided to go snooping. He wanted to know what secrets she had hidden there. He was in no mood for surprises.

                The room was small and dark. Finding a light switch on the wall, he flipped it. There was a large canopy bed with sheer, gray curtains against one wall. Along the wall facing the foot of the bed was a series of shelves. Moving closer to them, he found that these shelves held a strange assortment of seemingly unrelated items. There was a pearl necklace in a velvet lined box, a dusty, black, silk top hat, a length of leather cord with a crudely carved, wooden eagle tied to it. These were just some of the items stored here. 

                As Remy stood looking at these things, it occurred to him that they were not simply being stored; they were being displayed like trophies. After a moment, he realized that that was precisely what they were … trophies. These were all personal mementoes that had been taken from the people that Lilith had made into vampires. And there, neatly folded on the shelf, was his own trademark brown duster.

                Furious, he snatched the duster off the shelf, shook it out and pulled it on. However briefly, he had been part of one collection in his lifetime; he had no intention of being part of another. He refused to become one of Lilith's trophies.

                Returning to the large common room, he settled onto the bed to wait. He felt much more relaxed now that he understood Lilith's mindset and he had come to a firm decision regarding his course of action. He was much more sure of his footing now and felt that the playing field was a little more even.

                Patience was a virtue that Remy LeBeau had learned to espouse very early in life. First, while trying to survive on the streets of New Orleans, he had learned to conserve precious energy while waiting for the next meal to come. Then, as an apprentice in the Thieves' Guild, he had learned to sit quietly and observantly and wait for the right opportunities to present themselves. And finally, as a member of the X-Men, he had learned to trust in his teammates and wait for their backup. This had been the hardest lesson for him to learn. Ironically, it had also been the first and only one to let him down.

                He lost track of the hours as he sat waiting for Lilith to return, but he was still focused and calm when he heard the bar over the door being shifted. The door opened and Michael entered. The younger vampire paused for a moment, seeing Remy sitting so still and expectantly on the edge of the bed.

                "You've been in Lilith's room," Michael said, noting the brown duster. "She won't be happy."

                The young mutant said nothing. He simply sat watching the vampire warily. Remy had already checked the pockets of his duster and found them empty. Whether or not Lilith had understood the significance of the playing cards or the short, metal, cylindrical object that expanded into his bo staff, his weapon of choice, was unclear. Regardless, she had removed them. Perhaps assuming them to be the childish trinkets of a still-juvenile mind.

                Michael moved cautiously into the room. He could sense the change in the young mutant's demeanor, in his body language, suddenly tense and guarded. Gone were the apathy and the nonchalance. They had been replaced with something formidable and dangerous.

                "You're having second thoughts, aren't you?" Michael asked.

                There was still no response.

                "You don't really think that Lilith is going to let you go a third time, do you? She's obsessed with you. For as long as I've been with her, all she ever talked about was you. You and your precious, mutant blood. Is that all you've got LeBeau, tasty blood and freaky eyes? Because now that I've met you. I'm not impressed. Sure, you're nice to look at, but aren't you mutants supposed to have powers or something? Where are yours? I have yet to see you do anything more impressive than sleep … and bleed."

                "Was dere somethin' in particular dat you wanted, homme? Or did you come down here specifically to give me shit?" Remy finally asked.

                "You know, I should wipe that smug smile right off your face, mutant."

                "Yeah, you prob'ly should, but I'm thinkin' Lilith wouldn't be too happy 'bout dat. After all, which one o' us you think she care more 'bout? You, her gopher boy, or me, de one she's obsessed with?"

                "You bastard!" Michael hissed.

                "Hmm, mos' likely," Remy agreed amiably.

                With a sudden inarticulate snarl, the vampire launched himself across the room at the still-smiling Cajun. Fully anticipating the attack, Remy jumped up and used the vampire's own momentum to propel himself up and over Michael's back. Landing behind the other male, Remy bent and scooped up a pair of discarded earrings from the floor.

                "You wanted to see what I can do, Homme? Here you go!" the young mutant shouted, charging the earrings with bio-kinetic energy and tossing them at the vampire. 

                Not realizing the danger and reacting without thinking, Michael caught the two tiny, glowing objects. Although small, the resulting explosion blew his hand almost entirely off. The vampire howled in agony, clutching the bloody mass of his ruined hand.

                Shocked, Remy took a stepped back. This was not the result he had expected. Glancing around quickly for more ammunition, he spotted a partial deck of playing cards lying scattered across a nearby table. Moving to the table, he began scooping them up and shoving them into his pockets.

                Distracted with the cards, he did not notice that Michael had fallen silent. The young mutant didn't realize the danger of turning his back on a vampire, even a wounded one, until it was too late. Enraged, Michael leaped and tackled the other male, knocking him to the ground. Remy had just enough time to twist his body around, allowing him to land on his back. He reached out with both hands to grab onto Michael's good wrist before he could wrap his hand around the Cajun's throat. Although the two males were of similar height and build, Michael had the distinct advantage of enhanced strength. It was taking everything Remy had, just to keep that grasping hand away from his throat. He had no chance to grab something to charge.

                "What is this?! Michael, stop it!"

                Remy heard Lilith's voice ring out from somewhere beyond his line of vision. Abruptly he felt the crushing weight on his chest and stomach lessen as Michael was lifted off of him. Lilith effortlessly tossed the other vampire across the room.

                "Michael, what the hell is the matter with you?" Lilith demanded.

                At this point, the younger vampire was enraged past the point of rational thought. Still fuming incoherently, he flung himself at Lilith. She batted him aside, using as little effort the second time as she had the first, but her eyes were wide with shock.

                "How dare you?" she screamed.

                Spying a jagged length of wood from the piece of furniture that Remy had broken earlier, she snatched it up and went after Michael. Seeing that she was armed, he fell back, arms held out defensively. Now blinded by her own fury, Lilith lunged at him, burying the piece of jagged wood into his chest. With a shriek of pain, Michael collapsed to the floor. An instant later his body had been reduced to a half-rotted pile of flesh and bones.

                Angry energy still fueling her, Lilith turned to Remy. Her eyes flashed dangerously and her fists were clenched tightly. The boy took a step back, his hands dipping into his pockets to grab a card. Her eyes raked over his body and a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl emerged from her throat.

                "I did not give you permission to dress yourself. And I most certainly did not give you permission to enter my room," she snarled, stepping closer.

                Again, he retreated a step. Seeing that he had backed himself into a corner, between the bed and the wall, she moved closer again. He had no more room to retreat. She stood before him, her hands on her hips, smiling.

                "No more games, Remy. You belong to me. You have since the night you first set foot inside this house eight years ago. Just admit it and we can move on."

                "I agree, no more games," the young mutant said, hedging closer to the bed. "But I don't belong t' you. I never did an' I never will."

                Never letting his eyes leave hers, he darted one hand under the mattress to retrieve the homemade cross hidden there. He held it out in front of him. For a moment a look of fear flashed across the vampire's face, but it quickly faded. Smiling smugly, she took one more deliberate step foreword, pressing her chest against the cross. Nothing happened. Remy's jaw dropped in disbelief.

                "A cross is just a symbol, LeBeau, nothing more, nothing less. In and of itself, it has no power."

                "But Tante Mattie," Remy whispered, "I saw her…"

                "When your Tante Mattie burned me those eight years ago, the power didn't come from the cross, it came from her and her unwavering belief in its holiness. It was her belief that gave it power."

                With those words, Lilith reached out and put her hand on the cross and pushed his unresisting hand aside. Moving closer still, she reached her other hand out to tangle in his thick hair.

                "Obviously your belief is lacking… Stop fighting me, Remy. This is what we both want. Just let go of your pain, let go of your life and accept my gift."

                "You're right, Lilith ," the boy whispered. "Dere are very few things in dis world dat I believe in. But dere is one thing I believe in with all my being, 'cause its de only thing I have, … my own mutant powers…"

                Gently, he pushed past her and began moving towards the stairs. He paused a moment to look back at her. Confused by his words and his actins, she just stood and watched him. After a few seconds, she became aware of a soft, but high-pitched, whining hiss. Glancing down, she realized that the sound was coming from the cross in her hand, which was now glowing a pinkish-red color. Now even more perplexed, she looked back up at him.

                "Au revoir, ma chere," he whispered, before turning and sprinting up the stairs to the main level of the house.

                He had just made it to the large foyer when the explosion rocked the entire house, throwing him to the floor. Picking himself up slowly and painfully, he brushed the dust and bits of debris from his coat. A sudden low groaning sound told him that his little display of mutant muscle had not been good for the structure of the aged house.

                Ah well, he thought, an idea flashing through his mind, I may as well finish what I started.

                Reaching into his pocket, he produced the cards that he had picked up in the lower level. Walking around the first floor, he began placing cards charged with a time-delayed release in strategic locations. Moving quickly, he returned to the foyer and set his last card. Leaving the house, he sprinted to the edge of the swamp, well away from the house, to watch the fireworks.

                The ground shook as the first series of explosions rocked the house. The next few shattered the windows and brought down the long second story balcony. With a loud groan of collapsing timber, the last series brought down the rest of the house. Remy watched the dust settling over the wreckage with a sense of satisfaction that he had not felt in a long time.

                Damn, I wish I had a cigarette, he thought.

                The distant sounds of shouting drew his attention away from the still smoking ruin toward the east end of the road. After a few minutes he was able to distinguish a few of the voices as members of Clan LeBeau. They were coming to investigate the explosions.

                "What de hell happened here?"

                Remy instantly recognized Jean-Luc's voice and for a moment he seriously considered calling out to his father. But he stopped himself. He would only make trouble for the Thieves' Guild leader and what would he say anyway? Jean-Luc would want to know why Remy wasn't in New York with the X-Men and Remy didn't want to deal with that question. He decided that it would be better for everyone if he just slunk back into the shadows where he belonged.

~*~*~*~

                "Looks like de blood-suckers really pissed somebody off dis time," Emil said with a sneer. "Wonder who it was?"

                Tante Mattie shrugged noncommittally, looking around at all the devastation. Glancing over toward the swamp, she thought she saw a tall shadow moving among the trees. A strange feeling of familiarity and warmth passed through her and she headed in that direction. But when she arrived at the water's edge, the shadow was gone. Turning to look in every direction, she saw no one. She could still sense that comforting warm feeling, but couldn't pinpoint its source. A slight flash of white at the corner of her eye caught her attention. Glancing down, she bent to pick up the object she had seen. It was a playing card, the jack of hearts, to be specific.

                "What you got dere, Mattie?" Jean-Luc asked as he approached the woman.

                Without a word, she handed the card to him. Looking at it in the dim glow of his lantern, a slow smile spread across his face.

                "Remy," he whispered. Glancing over his shoulder at the ruined house, he added. "I should've known."

                Turning back to face the water, Jean-Luc scanned the bayou with well-trained eyes for the familiar tall, lanky silhouette of his adopted son, but he saw no one. And yet, something deep inside told him that his son was still close by.

                "You take care o' y'self, boy," he called softly into the darkness.

                Slipping the card into the pocket of his own duster and taking Mattie's arm, he started to lead her back toward the rest of the gathered guild members. As they passed by a particularly large cypress tree, he could have sworn he heard a very soft voice drift down from above.

                "Toi aussi, Papa, toi aussi."

~FINI~


End file.
